


Waxing Fatigue

by Fluidfyre



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/M, Magic, Sexual Content, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluidfyre/pseuds/Fluidfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke can't help but admire Anders at the end of the day, fatigued and bloodied as he may be. Kinkmeme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waxing Fatigue

**Author's Note:**

> _Kinkmeme request: Hey guys, I've recently been playing DA2 again and tried out some mods and guess what happened: I met Anders in his clinic, with nothing on but his underpants! Was he exhausted and sweaty from all the healing? Who the hell knows? :D But cue F!Hawke staring at his gorgeous body (aww, yeah |D) all the time!_

Anders cursed and pulled off his jacket, tossing the pauldrons on his cot and ruffling the feathers further. He'd spent years fighting – and honestly, years treating the ill in Darktown – but it had been a bloody day. He plucked open the buttons on his tunic and sighed as he held it up in the lamplight. Ruined. Maker, it was utterly ruined.

He slipped out the door and through the packed corridors of Darktown to where the only reliable well was, drawing water into the waterproofed sac he had over his shoulder. He scarce noticed acknowledged the denizens smiling or waving – he was a known commodity. He walked with heavy eyes and closed the doors when he was back in his clinic. Retrieving a wide copper bowl with a clang, he poured the water in - and promptly noticed the fluids down his trousers.

Sighing, Anders stood and stripped them off, throwing them on the pile of clothing nearby. He heated the water with a wave of his hand. Later. He would worry about it all later, but for now, he needed the itch of sweat, blood and sinew out of his hair and off his hands.

"And I didn't even have to ask," Hawke said from where she leant against the wall. She was dressed in the silk jacket that bore her family's crest.

Anders tired eyes relaxed as he saw her, and shaking his head he dipped the cloth in the water. "I thought there was a Wintersend ball tonight."

Hawke pushed off the wall and strolled closer as he repeatedly dipped and scrubbed the cloth through his hair. "It might not be obvious, but I didn't go."  
Her eyes lingered along his soft lines and curves. The meagre musculature hugged to the bone – clearly wasn't a warrior. There was a small paunch of wrinkles around his belly when he bent to wash – a testament to how she tried to feed him. It hadn't been there when she first stripped him down in her bedroom last year.

Chuckling softly, Anders scrubbed the cloth in the water, "Thank you for the clarification." The rivulets of water dripped down his neck and chest as he sat up to scrub the grime and blood.

"Here," she lightly said, sinking down beside him to take the cloth away. "You look like the cat dragged you home."

"There was a collapse," he quietly said, relinquishing the cloth. There were deep circles under his eyes, and he slowly exhaled as she took up washing his arms.

"You could have come home to do this," Hawke murmured, squeezing his hand as she sopped through the blood on his forearms.

"Yes, and left footprints all the way," he said with a smirk. He kept his eyes down. "I didn't think you'd be home."

"That's kind of you," Hawke grinned. "That being naked in the house necessitates my presence – I like that. I'm going to get some more, mm?" She snagged the sac beside him and was gone before he could say another word.

Anders exhaled, letting his shoulders sag. Even with the spell he'd cast, his hands and arms ached from use. The joints in his fingers felt fat and stiff – that was new. Five years ago, it'd never been a problem.

"Warm it for me?" Hawke said as she emptied the copper bowl and refilled it with clean water. "Unless you'd prefer it cold?"

Anders passed his hand over the water, and soon small curls of steam rose from its surface. Hawke doused the cloth again, washing up his calves before standing to scrub his back.

"You always look like a cat, you know," Hawke murmured, leaning by his ear as she dipped down his sides. "I get my hands on you, and you just purr and preen."

"It feels good, what can I say?" Anders slowly grinned, and twitched as she lightly strummed her fingers down his lumbar. He laughed a bit, "Hey."

Grinning, Hawke circled and appraised him, cleaning in his ears and ruffling his hair once more before saying, "Alright, off with the smalls."

"The latch is on the door?"

"Maybe," she said with a devious glint in her eyes.

Anders rolled his eyes and shifted to kick away the smalls, scooting the small bench back against the wall at Hawke's request. She pushed the basin with her foot before sinking to her knees and soaking the cloth. Smiling sweetly at him, she ran the damp fabric up his thigh and around his pelvis, encouraging him to lean against the wall. He drew a breath through his nose, opening one of his eyes to look at her.

"Now you're just being a tease," Anders murmured.

"Am I?" Hawke said with feigned innocence. She tilted her head, fingers plying the cloth across the curve of his hip and into the crease of his thighs. He shifted a bit, and she sat up on her knees more. "I don't have to be."

Anders opened his heavy eyes to meet her gaze, leaning forward to kiss her as she dropped the cloth back into the bowl. When she wrapped her fingers lightly round his half-mast, he groaned and forced the kiss deeper. Tracing up her neck, he tangled his fingers in her hair and toyed their tongues together as she teased him harder.

"Not too tired?" Hawke said in a breath as their lips parted. Anders chuckled once, nose-to-nose with her before tightening his grasp in her hair and taking another kiss. She ran her wet hand up his shaft, and he groaned.

"No," he said in between their kisses, and his hand plied the neck of her jacket down her shoulder. It let his mouth find her skin, breath hot and staggered as she squeezed his member, and it prompted soft little nips that tugged the curve of her neck. Her hair tickled his forehead, and he breathed in the scent of her skin, tensing in her grasp.

Hawke kissed him roughly, her free hand pressing him back against the wall. She swallowed the delightful groan in his throat, twirling her tongue with his to tug and pull in much the same way her fingers slipped along his hardened manhood. He writhed into the wall, his hips urging into her hand.

"May I?" she whispered against his lips, standing to kick off her kidskin boots.

Anders amber eyes swam as he looked up to her, reaching for her hip as she kicked her britches away too. His lips were reddened as she put a knee on the bench beside his thigh, still stroking him with the same squeeze, tug and rhythm. "I suppose - perhaps?"

Smiling, Hawke climbed over him, steadying her free hand on the wall as she looked down his body. Anders nudged his chin against he breast, dragging the stubble over its pert curve before biting the softness. She squeezed his shaft in reply, and he shifted to her nipple, taking the darkened wrinkle into his mouth. Sighing out, she pressed her forehead against the wall, moving in time with the slow, teasing slip of her hand as his tongue flecked the pert nub.

Anders linked his arm around her waist, bunching her soft jacket and grasping a handful of ass before he bit Hawke's nipple too. It brought a soft laugh, and she squeezed his hardness, only earning herself another nip. His fingers chilled, and he let the icy touch slide up her spine, and Hawke shivered into him, tilting her chin down into his lips. She was panting when she finally settled out of his grasp and impaled herself.

Pulling the garment off, Anders linked his arms around Hawke's back, sighing into her neck and suckling the skin as she ground down into him. She planted a hand on his shoulder, leaning back into his grasp and rolling her hips. Eyes closed, she let her thoughts sink into her skin, her hips, his hands plying her backside, his breath up her neck as he pulls her in, the needed whimper in his throat, and their lips. Sensation without thought, just the pleasure of his closeness.

"Anders," Hawke whispered in a hush, the word smothered by his lips as soon as it was uttered.

"Mmm," was all he replied, giving her hair a soft tug to bare her neck for him. Holding her back, he bit her neck once more, drawing a throaty groan. His other hand crept over her hip before a spark on his fingertips found her core and jerked her gyrations into a harsh rhythm of need.

"Yes, Maker, yes…" the words spilled without thought, and Hawke gripped his shoulder, tensing her buttocks to grind into him as another spark from his twinkling touch sent a thrill through her loins.

Anders' tongue dragged down her neck and he nipped over the ridge of her collarbone as she bucked into him, breath hot and fast against her. Hawke dug her fingers into his shoulder to steady the fast rhythm with which she rode him, and her head fell forward as he touched the nub of her sex once more, alight with magic. She gasped in, the sound breaking into a cry of relief that filled the clinic around them. Linking her arms around his neck, she ground their bodies together, nipping at his lip before forcing him to kiss her.

Hawke tensed her thighs, lost in the rush and strum of her pulse, of the wash of pleasure, and Anders gripped her ass as he met her hips with urgent thrusts of his own. She buried her face in his neck, her hand tangled in his hair as she panted, kissing and suckling his skin, breath against his ear. When he choked on his groan, his hands snaked up her spine and pulled her down on him, their bodies sticky with sweat and heaving for air.

Eyes closed against his neck, Hawke stayed in his lap and combed her fingers through his damp hair. Anders slowly encircled her in his arms, her breasts smushed between them and stuck skin to skin. He let his head fall back against the wall, breathing roughly.

"Think you can carry me?" he softly huffed.

"What?" Hawke lightly laughed, lifting her head to look at him. She caressed over his forehead, eyes half-lidded.

Anders closed his eyes, tilting his face into her touch. "I'm not sure I can make it up all those stairs to bed."

"We'll stay here till you can," she murmured, settling into his arms and listening to the thrum of his heart.


End file.
